


Geronimo

by TheStrangeSeaWolf



Series: Darkness and Light [7]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: (<--And this is the hill I will die on), (Although this ship name is rather idiotic and should be changed to Impossible Care), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, POV Clara Oswin Oswald, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Telepathic Bond, Will to Survive, because analyzing data is always sexy, data analysis, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 11:33:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20965874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrangeSeaWolf/pseuds/TheStrangeSeaWolf
Summary: After some sleep Clara decides she needs to analyze what's wrong with the Doctor and if there is something she can do to help him. Fortunately the TARDIS is a very helpful companion. But she still needs the Doctor to help her really understand what she is seeing.





	Geronimo

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all again for the kudos. Now, we really should take a look at the Doctor's health status again, don't you think?

Clara woke up to a snoring Timelord. Somewhere during the last few hours, she must have let go of her hold on him and now he lay on his back, mouth half open, sounding like he had to chop down all the forests of Nigparapos. He looked much more relaxed than usual and somehow incredibly young despite his old appearance.

She brushed away some of the grey curls from his forehead and couldn’t resist the urge to place a soft kiss there.

“Sleep some more, my Doctor.” She murmured as she got up and tucked the duvet tighter around his body. As a response he closed his mouth, smacked, rolled to his side and nestled deeper down into the pillow with a hint of a smile, which mercifully also interrupted the deafening snoring.

She tip-toed to his hoodie to get out the sonic sunglasses and do a reading.

_Vital force: 48%_

_Will to Survive: 99%_

Clara let out a surprised breath. Good to see his will to survive much higher than expected. But the vital force was still beyond the critical threshold mentioned by Roskatha.

At least he was improving. The question was what made him improve and if she could do something to help the healing process. She thought about how she could find out. The TARDIS hummed.

“You got something to help me?” Clara asked.

The TARDIS hummed an affirmative sound. Lights appearing on the floor indicated that Clara should follow them.

She looked down to the sleeping Timelord and wondered if she could leave him alone. So far, he slept peacefully. But she remembered the depth of his fear to be left alone.

Suddenly, she got an idea. She took off the t-shirt she slept in. Then she draped it next to his nose, so her smell would be there to comfort him. Immediately his arms embraced the cloth, pressing it to his chest. Her touch-avoiding, grey-haired stick-insect tightly hugging her t-shirt was such a heartwarming sight that her eyes became wet.

She remembered how nearly desperate he had pulled her closer to wrap himself with her a few hours earlier. How he had confessed that everything was better when she was around him. If she was honest with herself, she felt just as lost when he was not around. When days were just about getting up, working, hanging out with some boring ordinary humans and going back to sleep, alone. She needed him by her side just as much as he needed her. Damn, she loved her impossible man, why was it so difficult to just confess it and see where it would lead them?

Well, making sure he didn’t regenerate in the first place was probably the best way to go about it, she reminded herself. At least standing half naked in his room, dwelling on what could be was certainly not very helpful. She put her jogging suit back on. She looked once more to the Doctor who seemed blissfully asleep, now more or less curled around her shirt like some grey, curly tomcat.

She yawned, stretched and followed the lights the TARDIS used to guide her to the console room. One of the monitors was lit. She looked at it.

“Health Monitoring System” she read. Of course, the TARDIS kept track of the wellbeing of her thief. Clever old girl! That’s what they needed now: data. Data on how his vital force and will to survive had progressed and if it told them what helped improving.

She looked closer. There were two listings: Subject 1 and Subject 2.

“You monitor my health, too?”

The TARDIS hummed something that probably meant Clara shouldn’t pride herself on it as she monitored the health data of every passenger. 

Clara touched “Subject 1” and was provided with a whole range of options: life force, hearts rate, blood pressure, body temperature, respiratory system, nutrition status, digestive functions, liver functions, kidney functions, other. While she was curious what “other” health data would encompass, she pressed “life force”.

“Select time range”. She was provided with options she didn’t understand. No wonder, time was a really complicated system, and the software was created by time travelling engineers from Gallifrey. Seemed she needed a native to help.

“Can you select the data from when we sat in the library after Skaro until now?” She asked the TARDIS. A hum and a graph appeared on the screen.

[](https://ibb.co/fY2hkvY)

So… The will to survive had made an extreme uptick relatively early. She wondered what made it, what had happened there. There was a slow, steady progress in the vital force, but it was difficult to have a clear idea of what happened when.

“Dear TARDIS, can you give me a more detailed view on the vital force alone?”

The TARDIS hummed and showed her a more detailed graph of the development of the vital force. She even added some points.

[ ](https://ibb.co/bLypcfK)

The timeline still didn’t make any sense to Clara. Probably some Gallifreyan standard. Two drops in vital force, otherwise some points with significant improvement. Now, if she only found out what made them… 

She heard the sound of bare feet approaching behind her and turned around.

“What are you doing?

The Doctor asked. He was really a sight to see: Barefoot in a washed-out band t-shirt and grey boxers with white question marks, the hair a tangled mess of grey curls, right now rubbing some sleep out of his eyes with his left hand. He looked decidedly more like a four-year-old boy that had been woken up from his sleep than a 2,000-year-old Timelord.

“What are you doing up already?”

Clara asked, to her own surprise sounding more like a nanny than a woman talking to her best friend who was still in a critical health condition. Thankfully she could contain herself from ordering him to put on house slippers, otherwise he’d catch a cold running around barefoot in his time machine. Probably the shock. Seeing the man who usually put on a ridiculous number of layers of clothing nearly naked for his own standards, the man who usually acted extremely coy around her, had caught her off guard.

“You were not there, so I thought I’d check. Besides, I’m hungry.”

Well, that sounded more like him. This incarnation could eat under the most unlikely circumstances and in the most inconvenient places.

She recalled them hanging upside down from a cave on Akandilon where some gigantic batlike aliens had tied them for unknown purposes. He had managed to free one hand, rummaged around in his pockets for the screwdriver and found a half-squashed cereal bar. He munched that while he told her a longwinded and nearly incomprehensible story about the inhabitants of this planet as he worked on their ties.

So, him being hungry was not necessarily a sign that he was on the mend, but at least it was perfectly normal for him. Unlike running around barefoot in boxers. Not that she minded. He looked more relaxed than ever and cute in a weird kind of way.

“Okay, let’s go to the kitchen and find us some breakfast, I’ll take a look at your hand and maybe afterwards you can help me make sense of your health data, how does that sound?”

He nodded. Before she could stop herself, she stretched out her hand like she would have done with one of her youngest pupils and he took it without hesitation. She started for the kitchen and he tagged along. She was not sure if she should be worried or happy about it. She decided not to overthink it. At least not before she had a cup of tea as she still felt a bit tired and not completely present.

A little later they sat in the kitchen with two steaming cups of tea and two bowls with the Mandillion’s equivalent of porridge. The Doctor wolfed down his share like he hadn’t had something to eat in centuries.

“Hungry, eh?”

She asked as he reached her his bowl for a refill. He nodded eagerly.

Something was different. It took her some time to put her finger on it. Usually he would chatter the whole time, telling her about planets they should visit or telling her about how he beat some monsters by doing a clever thing, always radiating an aura of restless energy but also some uneasiness. Now he seemed completely happy with just sitting there, eating and sometimes shooting her a warm look from his grey-blue eyes. Today, even his attack eyebrows seemed soft.

Soft, that was it. Her whole grim and fierce Timelord seemed soft today. Soft and relaxed. She couldn’t decide if this was good or bad. Was it a sign he finally learned that she accepted him how he was, and he didn’t have to try to impress her as she was not wishing his old self back? Or was it a sign that he was losing the battle against regenerating? She only realized that she hadn’t seen this side of this incarnation so far.

Well, she had, but only on the rare occasions where she got hurt in an adventure. Then he would go above and beyond, not only getting her the best medical treatment but also hovering around her like an overprotecting mother, comforting her in all possible ways. Sometimes she cursed that Timelord medical treatment was so effective and therefore these episodes were rather short.

Speaking of…

“Would you like me to look after your hand?”

She asked and he willingly gave her his clouted hand. No fuss? No “Timelords can very well look after themselves” speech?

She took away the bandages and touched one finger after the other, softly bending them, looking for signs of pain. As she reached the pinky, she drew the sonic sunglasses from her pocket to make sure that the broken bones had correctly grown together. The glasses indicated that the tissue there was already stable enough she wouldn’t need to put the splint back on.

“All very well, Doctor. You won’t need the splint anymore, but no punching walls or alien jaws for at least two weeks.”

She smiled at him smugly.

“Yes, Boss!”

He smiled back, reached over the table and cupped her cheek with his now free hand, stroking it with his thumb.

“You heal me, Clara Oswald.”

The words made her heart clench. Especially because she had seen the readings again:

_Vital force: 48%_

_Will to Survive: 99%_

_Calculation for need of regeneration running… 88%_

She took a deep breath. She put her hand on his hand, softly stroking it.

“Not quite. I’m sorry to inform you that we still do have a regeneration problem. The TARDIS has crunched some data for me, but I struggle with analyzing it. Would you help me make sense of it?”

He nodded. They both stood up. As they started for the console room, they were side by side as usual, but she realized the Doctor walked closer to her than usual. As they arrived at the monitor, his shoulder nearly touched hers. The TARDIS displayed the first graph without request.

[](https://ibb.co/fY2hkvY)

“Here we do have a sudden rise in your will to survive from 8 to 99 percent. This is great, but I don’t really understand what caused it.”

Clara looked up to the Doctor, noticing a slight hint of red on his cheeks.

“Well, it might be that I…” he hesitated.

“What is it, Doctor?”

“Clara.”

“You can tell me. You know you can trust me, do you?”

She took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his, locking eyes. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and nodded.

“It is called “Will to Survive” but usually there is only a small percentage a Timelord can control with his will. It is usually a figure that is highly depended on the vital force. Depending on how severe the injuries are and how desperate the situation is. If the damage is severe enough and the situation is hopeless the will to survive will drop below 5% and the Timelord will regenerate – or die if he doesn’t have a regeneration left.”

She was not sure where he was going with this. But it seemed to be another confession as he was extremely tense and sweat was glistering on his forehead.

“I… There was an incident… doesn’t matter in detail, maybe another time… Anyway, one time I discovered that for this incarnation it is different. I can control the will to survive. Even if my body is severely damaged and I would regenerate under normal circumstances I can fight back regeneration and increase my will to survive up to 99%. On the other hand, I can reach the point where I will regenerate by letting it willingly drop beneath 5%.”

Clara stared at the graph with a sense of shock. If this graph didn’t show his physical condition but really, literally his will to survive that meant… She needed to grab a hold on the console because her knees went weak.

“You _wanted_ to regenerate.” Her voice was a whisper of shocked disbelief.

He nodded slowly.

“Doctor!”

Clara uttered, pulling him into a hug, no matter what he thought of it.

How desperate must this man have felt, how much must he have thought she despised his recent self that he was willing himself into regeneration?

“I’m so sorry, Doctor, I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it come to this. I should have never let you doubt how much you mean to me.”

He wrapped his arms around her. For some minutes neither of them could speak a word. Or really think. Her silent tears soaked his t-shirt.

She needed him to see.

“Doctor, please, close all doors, let me in,” she whispered.

She felt how he drew her closer in his embrace, resting his head against hers.

_She let him see. More, she let him feel._

_She remembered all the times she anticipated him coming to her flat. _

_Let him feel her heart jump at the first grinding sound from the TARDIS._

_Let him feel how much she liked it when he ran into her flat, all excited, telling her where they would go next._

_Let him feel the fun she had when they were bantering. _

_Let him feel how much she liked listening to him talking about aliens and planets._

_Let him feel her pride of walking next to him when they were welcomed to a royal court or even when walking down the corridor of a dark prison with the eyes of their fellow prisoners and the guards upon them._

_Let him feel how proud she was that she was the companion of the man who was able to frighten monsters and negotiate peace treaties for whole galaxies._

_Let him feel her fear for him when they were separated._

_Let him feel her relief when he finally showed up unharmed._

_Let him feel how her heart jumped when he gave her one of his warm smiles or soft gazes._

_Let him feel how he made her feel special._

_She let him feel how much she loved him but also how insecure she was because she would not want to scare him or risk their friendship by confessing it. But that she loved him, without doubt him, in this incarnation with everything that made him unique, his fierce appearance, his recklessness, his excitement, his humor, his cleverness, even his anger and his awkwardness. _

“Clara!”

She felt his hearts racing and his grip tightening as he reversed the connection.

_Suddenly she felt his feelings._

_How she brightened up his mood whenever she entered the TARDIS doors._

_How in a whole crowd he saw only her, like a bright star in the darkest night._

_How he loved teasing her to initiate a banter._

_How he completely relied on her judgement of people and situations._

_How proud he was when she walked by his side, may it be a royal court or a prison corridor. _

_How he wanted to shout out that the most clever and beautiful woman in this universe was his companion, only his and not anyone else’s._

_How his world was dark and empty when she wasn’t by his side. _

_How he feared the worst when she wasn’t where he expected her to be._

_How he was relieved when her familiar face finally appeared._

_How he felt protected and safe when she wrapped him in her arms._

_How she made him feel special._

_How much he loved her but also how much he feared that she would leave him if he confessed it. And that he probably would never find the courage to speak these words aloud because he was sure he would screw it if he had to do it verbally. But that he loved her, with both his hearts, unconditionally, and that if she just allowed him to stay near her, he was the happiest man alive._

They stayed, silently hugging, heads leaning against each other for minutes. Neither dared to talk or think. Just feeling each other’s presence and love. Finally, they let their feelings and thoughts communicate.

_It feels so good, so right, now. I’m scared it will feel awkward once we break the bond._

_Me, too._

_Eventually, we have to. We can’t stay like this forever, can we?_

_Forever is a long time._

_Will probably be hard on the back. After a few centuries, at least._

_Also keeps us from going to the kitchen for some snacks._

_I knew this would be your worst fear, Doctor._

_A close second, at least._

_What’s the worst?_

_Things changing between us._

_Mine, too. But change is not always for the worse._

_If you say so, Clara. You were always braver than me._

_If you look right, the only change at the moment is that we know that it is true what we hoped would be true. That you love me, and I love you._

_I never hoped for it._

_Because you are an idiot. And I am an idiot, I should have let you know earlier. Would have saved us this whole regeneration problem, I guess._

_Probably the way it is now, yes. But not completely. _

_What do you mean?_

_The vital force is nothing that can be influenced by my will._

_Okay, got it, so we still have an immediate problem?_

_I’m afraid, yes, seems so. _

_Then we should probably worry about that first, don’t you think?_

_Sounds reasonable. But before we break this bond… What if I can’t do this whole boyfriend stuff?_

_Maybe we shouldn’t overthink it? Maybe I love you because you are you? Maybe you actually like to do some of that “boyfriend stuff”? Maybe I don’t like some of the “boyfriend stuff” anyway? We will figure this out together, I’m sure. We got all of time and space, am I right?_

_I hope so. What if I screw it and can’t bring myself to say it once we are apart?_

_Not totally convinced I can manage that myself._

_Seems like we are a good match, then._

_Seems very much like it, indeed. Ready to break the bond?_

_Ready if you are._

_Geronimo?_

_Geronimo!_

**Author's Note:**

> Come on, you all knew there HAD to be a love confession somewhere, somehow, didn't you? ;)


End file.
